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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24230020">The Return</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaturnianWildcat/pseuds/TheSaturnianWildcat'>TheSaturnianWildcat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Oblivion Crisis, Post-Morrowind, flashbacks to Morrowind/Tribunal/Bloodmoon events, healthy bending of canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:41:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,453</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24230020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaturnianWildcat/pseuds/TheSaturnianWildcat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Nerevarine is called to Vivec City by Lord Vivec in the dying days of the Third Era, amongst his struggles with his memories and visions of red skies and fire.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Summons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've had this written for like a few moths ad decided, well fuck it, I'll put it here</p><p>Anyway, I've wanted to write something with my Nerevarine but didn't reallllly want to tread any ground of his Morrowind adventures. But hey! What better time to explore him that the final days of the Third Era?</p><p>Word for the wise: this is going to contain a healthy amount of headcanon and definetely some stuff that probably isn't canon-compliant (you'll know what I'm talking about in the final half of this). But hey, hopefully that appeals to ya'll!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which the Nerevarine receives a summons to a place he hasn't been in years, to talk to someone he hasn't spoke to in years.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was the dying days of the Third Era and a balmy summer night in southern Elsweyr. Vashir, known to few as the Nerevarine but more as ‘that cat who keeps to himself’, was sitting on his porch, puffing leisurely on a pipe and watching the fireflies flit about in the evening shade. Something glinted in the dark, like light off metal, just down the path to his home. He sat up, squinting his eye to get a glimpse at who it is.</p><p>It was three people, one without armor and two with. That armor—suddenly, he was back in the Ministry of Truth, holding his breath as an Ordinator walked by. They suspected something was amiss, but just what it was, they didn’t know. He held the keys to the cells in his fist, so they wouldn’t jingle. But just how he was going to get to Mehra Milo, he hadn’t figured out yet.</p><p>He resurfaced from the memory, back on his porch and trying to not shake too obviously. His hand scrambled for the sheath on his thigh, the comfortable weight of a dagger there. Another sat on the table beside him, laying innocuously out in the open. He never went anywhere without at least two.</p><p>The visitors were two Ordinators, flanking a Dunmer in ruby-red robes with the symbol of the Tribunal on them. They stopped in front of the porch and the robed Dunmer asked him, “Are you the Nerevarine, the Khajiit that goes by ‘Vashir’?”</p><p>Vashir swallowed thickly and nodded, standing to his feet. He walked down the steps, “That would be me.”</p><p>Being referred to by his title so far from Morrowind and in a time of peace sent a weird feeling through him, something alien and frankly very uncomfortable. Here he was, far from the reach of prophecy and yet his role found him again. The messenger held out a scroll stiffly out to him, “You’ve been called to Vivec City by Lord Vivec, effective immediately.”</p><p>He took the scroll and unfurled it, biting back a sigh when he found it held no new information. “Why?” he asked.</p><p>“We are not one to question His divine will.”</p><p>“Right,” he closed the scroll, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Why did he think anything else?</p><p>“Meet us at the Senchal docks when you are ready. Do not take too long,” the messenger continued and without any fanfare, turned away and set back down the path, as if they hadn’t just rocked Vashir’s world.</p><p>He waited until they were gone before he slipped back into his home, letting the door close behind him. He stood there for a moment before slowly sinking to the floor. He wanted to scream, if only to do <em>something</em> with all the emotion he suddenly felt. Why was it, every time he thought he had escaped his status as the Nerevarine, something insisted on making him be it again? It happened after Dagoth Ur, when the Dark Brotherhood came knocking. It happened after Almalexia, when he had fled to Solstheim only to be ensnared in another prophecy. And it was happening again now.</p><p>He set his head between his knees and focused on his breathing, so he wouldn’t have a full freak out. If he melted down every time the universe came a-knocking, he’d be dead seven years ago, when he first got to Vvardenfell. Finally, he felt calm enough to get ready so he stood and went to his room. In a chest at the end of his bed was where he kept most of the things he deemed necessary for adventure. At the top being a set of deep black-blue leather armor. It wasn’t exactly like the kind he wore on Vvardenfell but it was familiar enough that it was like he was sliding back into the persona of the Nerevarine, the savior of Vvardenfell. It was stiff, having not been worn in the three years since he commissioned it but he’d get used to it.</p><p>He dressed quickly, impressed that he didn’t feel too uncomfortable in the armor. He felt himself slipping back not only into the role of Nerevarine but of the thief, sneaky, quick on his feet and gone before you knew it. He retrieved two of the daggers from the chest, strapping them onto his belt. Finally, he took the leather bag from it and checked the contents. He usually kept potions, scrolls and other important things in it, just in case he needed to get out of dodge quick. He hummed then, satisfied with the contents, closed it and slung it onto his shoulder. Just one more thing.</p><p>He strode to the wall beside his bed, a sheathed sword hanging on the wall. He took it down, testing the weight and finding, despite everything, it a comfortable weight. He strapped it onto his hip and felt relaxed, now that he had Trueflame at his side.</p><p>He set out into the evening and down the path to Senchal. He lived just on the outskirts so it was easily a twenty minute walk. But it let him gain his bearings and ease away what anxiety lingered.</p><p>Senchal was not sleeping, not yet. Of course, Khajiiti cities didn’t really sleep, if just settled down. A few idled and watched him with a curious look. There was that white-furred Khajiit, the one that told tall tales about his exploits. Some wondered if, perhaps, there was truth to them, as he strode though, armored and armed for combat. Few ever really believed the stories he told, as he had a different one for everyone. Some said, when asked about his missing eye, it was because an animal attack. But no, he had also said it was an assassination attempt gone wrong. Or no, he had scorned his lover, who retaliated with vicious force. No one really knew the truth about him and now they wondered, what was the truth? His boarding a Dunmeri vessel was sure to stir up gossip in his absence.</p><p>As he boarded the ship, he felt eyes on him, curiosity and distrust in spades. They eyed his ring and sword, the two indisputable symbols of who he was. He tried to not think about it too much, instead approaching the messenger who had came to collect him.</p><p>The messenger looked him up and down and nodded, “I am glad to see you have arrived. Galeri,” he gestured to a girl, “...can guide you to your room.”</p><p>He nodded and followed her. At the door, she asked, “Do you need anything else?”</p><p>“No, no,” he waved her off, “I’m going to take a nap.”</p><p>She nodded slowly and let him enter. Once inside, he dropped his bag and unclipped Trueflame off his belt, setting it by the bed. He also took off his belt, and the two daggers with it, but slipped the one off his thigh to under his pillow. Satisfied, he fell onto the bed, closing his eyes, and dozing off in no time flat.</p><p>His dreams placed him in Vivec City deserted, quiet. Too quiet. He stood on the top of the stairs to the Temple. “Hello?” he called, stepping down.</p><p>No answer. Even the ever-present Ordinators are gone and that unsettled him. There was a crack of thunder, prompting him to freeze. The sky was clear so it couldn’t be rain. But he couldn’t say it was blue as it shifted into a crimson hue, like blood, like the Blight. Terror grabbed his heart and he bolted, hand going for Trueflame. It was gone, his belt was bare of any weapon. No weapons, he was helpless. Then he had to run for it. Somewhere ahead, the city rumbled. He prompted himself to run faster but the end of the stairs seemed to only get farther and farther away…</p><p>He awoke with a cry, bolting up. But he froze a moment later, as he saw the Dunmer girl—Galeri--had returned. She looked like a deer caught in the light, standing there and anxiously rubbing her hands together. Finally, she ventured, “<em>Serjo</em>, are you well?”</p><p>He shook off some of his panic, “N-nightmares,” he murmured, standing to his feet.</p><p>He anxiously rubbed at his arms, focusing instead on the leather texture than his own beating heart. “So anyway,” he asked, “What did you need me for?”</p><p>“Oh!” she waved him to the door, “I was told to fetch you for dinner!”</p><p>They walked in silence down the hall as Vashir rolled the dream around in his head. Ever since the events in the Heart Chamber, his dreams sometimes were visions of the future, vague ones but visions nonetheless. Before his confrontation in the Clockwork City, he dreamt of being lost in flooded clockwork tunnels. Before the Hunt of Hircine, he was chased through the freezing woods in his dreams. So this put a pit in his stomach. Did the dream mean something or was it merely him being anxious of going to Vivec City?</p><p>Galeri stopped, looking up and down the hallway, before grabbing his arm and pulling him into a side alcove. When she saw him raise one of his hands, she waved her arms, “No, no! I’m not going to hurt you! I have, um,” a pause, then, “….questions.”</p><p>Vashir paused too, “Questions?”</p><p>She nodded. This was a first. “What kind of questions?”</p><p>She paused, looking around. If there was one thing he learned, it was that Dunmer had a healthy sense of distrust. Which may have rubbed off on him. But Galeri seemed downright paranoid. Finally, she pointed to Moon-and-Star, “About the Nerevarine.”</p><p>“Right,” he pinched the bridge of his snout, “Could have guessed that. Everyone here obviously knows who I am.”</p><p>“I mean, who wouldn’t!” she grinned at him, making him feel...uncomfortable.</p><p>“I always got the impression people weren’t happy I was the Nerevarine and not, like, some upstanding House Dunmer,” he deadpanned.</p><p>“Perhaps,” she shrugged, “But I don’t think that matters. You defeated Dagoth Ur. You ended the Blight. That’s what matters.”</p><p>He should have felt pride. He did but all he could think about was that day, as he reflexively rubbed the scarred skin around his stitched up socket.</p><p>He had hesitated. On the third strike, he froze. The Heart sang to him, to his soul. He couldn’t articulate what it sounded like, or if it was a traditional song at all. All he knew was that it urged him that he could snatch the power to liberate his people. To slaughter the slave owners and overthrow the Tribunal who allowed this. So tempting, so very tempting…</p><p>Then pain exploded in his face as something sharp drove itself into his eye socket, dragging up across his face and ear then grabbing his scruff, like one might a toddler Khajiit. He was flung back onto the bridge, tumbling to a stop, Keening in his grasp all the while. He looked up, his vision obscured by darkness. But that didn’t stop him from seeing Dagoth Ur bearing down on him with a fury radiating off him that made all their other interactions seem like those between friends.</p><p>“<em>Serjo</em>?” Galeri spoke up, startling him from his memories.</p><p>“O-oh, the name’s Vashir,” he held one hand out which she took and squeezed.</p><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>“Was just thinking,” he waved her off, “Let’s get going.”</p><p>Dinner was a quiet affair, at least for Vashir. No one really talked to him, despite them glancing over at him. Oh the audacity of him, the Nerevarine to sit there like a normal person, <em>eating like a normal person</em>. He stabbed at a piece of meat in his nix-hound stew, taking it and chewing it thoughtfully.</p><p>He was roused from his irritation by a Dunmer across from him, a man with fluffy black hair tied back in a loose ponytail, “So, my friend, what is the talk around your home?”</p><p>“Things are quiet,” he settled on, unsure on how much to give away, “It’s nice but I know there are people who are worried about it.”</p><p>“Understandable,” the Dunmer nodded, “Us over on Vvardenfell are relieved for the quiet.”</p><p>Vashir nodded, “I’d expect that,” then took another bite of his stew.</p><p>The Dunmer flashed a grin at him, “I suppose that’s thanks to you, huh?”</p><p>Vashir nodded again, suddenly bashful. He took another bite of his stew, in an attempt to seem like he wasn’t up for conversion. Recognition was nice but...awkward. The Dunmer didn’t notice and continued, thoughtful, “Though the Temple has been up in arms since Sotha Sil and Almalexia have completely withdrawn, apparently to ponder their lost godhood according to the Temple up in Vivec.”</p><p>Vashir suddenly wasn’t hungry at all. His blood ran cold. The room felt like it was closing around him. So, he stood quietly and slipped out, trying to appear as casual as possible.</p><p>It felt like something had crawled under his skin and made its bed there. The slash on his side ached dully but he put it out of his mind. If he thought too hard on how he got it, another mistake he made and paid for when Hopesfire darted through his defense.</p><p><em>No, no</em>, he shook his head, staring at the floor as he hurried down the hall, now out of sight. He didn’t want to get stuck in <em>that memory</em>. Finally, he came to his room and entered, locking the door behind him. He wasn’t going to sleep this time, instead opening his pack. He grabbed a half-carved bit of antler and a carving knife from a side pocket. He stopped and looked at the antler. He had expected to grab one of the pieces of wood in there instead of this. Well, whatever. Might as well get immersed in a different memory.</p><p>He was unsure how long he sat there, methodically whittling the antler. He had picked up the habit long before he went to Vvardenfell but now after, he found it helped when he was on the cusp of a spiral. Someone knocked on the door, jolting him from his work. “Hey, it’s me,” Galeri called from the other side.</p><p>He set his things aside and opened the door. There she stood, holding a plate with a slice of cake on it. She handed it over along with a fork, “May I come in?”</p><p>He didn’t want to but...he nodded, stepping aside to let her in. He was mostly calm but liable to spiral again, given someone said the wrong thing. Yet, she was kind and he would have felt bad rebuffing her. Especially when she came with the gift of cake.</p><p>He sat on the bed, inspecting the dessert. Dunmer didn’t have a lot of sweet dishes, sticking to more savory and spicy ones, which was a near inversion of the overly sweet Khajiiti palette. Still, what they had, he liked. He took a bite. Spiced pumpkin cake, it evoked memories of him stopping at an inn at sundown, ordering dinner and a slice of cake...as a treat. “It’s good,” he told her.</p><p>She sat by him, the concern on her face plain as day, which was an oddity among elves. They tended to emote differently than other races, not letting as much emotion on their faces. Dunmer even moreso. “Why did you leave?” she asked.</p><p>He stared down at his cake, mulling over how to answer. He settled for a vague but truthful one, “Someone said something and it reminded me of a bad memory.”</p><p>She frowned, “What memory?”</p><p>“I can’t tell you.”</p><p>Her frown deepened but, thankfully, she nodded in understanding. Vashir took another bite of the cake, focusing on the flavor lest he think too much about what he had said. Galeri pointed at his half-carved antler, “Project?”</p><p>He nodded, setting aside the now empty plate and picking up the antler, “I’m making a knife handle. Very special.”</p><p>She chuckled, “What makes it special? Looks like a normal deer antler.”</p><p>He passed it from hand to hand, debating. Then he smirked, “Sure does, huh?” he asked, holding it up.</p><p>“I’m guessing you didn’t get it in Elsweyr. Not many deer.”</p><p>“You’d be surprised, especially in the south. But no, this is from Solstheim and it’s not just from any ol’ deer.”</p><p>Her eyebrows raised, interest perked, “What is it?”</p><p>He had her, hook, line and sinker. “There’s a tale in this and not one anyone would know. Something you could boast about!”</p><p>She leaned in, far too close for comfort, “Tell me!”</p><p>He leaned away, ever so slightly. He pushed away his uncomfortable feelings and launched into the tale, “It started when I was following a lead about a Dwemer airship on Solstheim...”</p><p>Time passed faster than he realized before he was came to the end of the tale of the Bloodmoon Prophecy, “And ol’ Hircine finally let me go, breaking off his antler in my shoulder! He said it was a trophy, as I had bested him. Oh!” he tapped just under his eye, “And that he’d have his eye on me.”</p><p>Galeri gasped, “Doesn’t that worry you?!”</p><p>Vashir shrugged, “Yeah, but I try to not think about it.”</p><p><em>Story of my life</em>, he gloomily thought.</p><p>“Wow, and this came off a Daedric Prince,” she said, reaching for the antler, brushing her fingers alongside his.</p><p>A jolt ran thought his fingers and all the way to the hairs on his neck. Did she mean to be this close? He was glad for the proximity in some ways...and others not. He explained, withdrawing it closer to himself, “Maybe I shouldn’t be carving it but it’s a trophy so I guess I oughtta treat it like one.”</p><p>She nodded, making no move to lean away. Vashir felt restless in his own skin, “But it’s late,” he continued, setting his carving knife and antler aside.</p><p>She nodded and stood, “So could we talk like this tomorrow? Your stories are so interesting!”</p><p>He shouldn’t...but someone thinking what he went through interesting? “Sure,” he said, without much thought.</p><p>She smiled and left, leaving him alone. Once he was sure she was out of earshot, he smacked the side of his head, “Why did I say that?!”</p><p>He had no lack of stories he could tell without getting lost within the memories. He could tell her what being infected with Corprus was like, even if it was disturbing. Or even the showdown within Red Mountain. He knew that was the one she really wanted to hear, which was a minor blessing. The one memory that nearly always consumed him, the one within the Clockwork City, was his own secret. As he was the only one alive who knew what had happened.</p><p>But he couldn’t tell it anyway. The only soul that he could tell was the one who had called him and Vashir suspected it was the reason for his calling. Dread crawled up his spine.</p><p>He sighed and laid back, hoping his sleep would be quiet.</p><p>It wasn’t.</p><p>Tonight, he was tearing through the forests of Pellitine, the sky above a blood red. This time, he had Trueflame. He had it unsheathed in his fervor, it’s flames trailing behind him in a radiant tail of fire. Somewhere ahead, there were cries and screams of pain, wails for help. But there was also roars and cruel laughter. He pushed himself to keep running, reasoning it was only a little farther…</p><p>He awoke, not with a scream, but feeling unsettled all the same. Another dream of red skies. Two dreams must mean it meant something but what, he did not know. He only feared it meant soon, a red sky would be over Tamriel.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Breakdown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which the Nerevarine makes a new friendship and ruins another.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Instead of staying in bed and devoting too much thought into his dreams, Vashir got up and left his room, making for the deck. It was still dark out so it wasn’t quite time for breakfast. He stopped at the edge of the ship and looked out. The sky above was alive with stars and the moons hanging above. Far out, he could see distant land, the southern coast of Tamriel, which they were skirting until they found a port in which to get to Vvardenfell.</p><p>Breakfast came soon, which was a quiet affair. Everyone had work that had to be done so there wasn’t as much time for chit-chat. Galeri wasn’t there at the minute, something that made him wonder. After, for lack of anything better to do, he returned to top deck. There was that Dunmer in his spot, the one from last night. He had seemed nice enough so he approached him, “Good morning.”</p><p>The Dunmer jumped and turned. He broke out into a grin, “Oh, it’s you! Vashir, right?”</p><p>Vashir nodded affirmative and held his hand out. The Dunmer took it firmly, “The name’s Fadren. Fadren Inavel.”</p><p>It’s only when he started to eye his hand in curiosity did Vashir realize he shook with the hand Moon-and-Star was on. He flipped his hand so it was in view, “You can look at it. Can’t advise putting it on though.”</p><p>Fadren grinned, taking his hand so he could inspect it. Vashir tried to not grimace at the touch. “No kidding! Don’t they say it’ll kill anyone else!” the Dunmer asked.</p><p>“It will,” Vashir replied.</p><p>Fadren looked back up, “You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”</p><p>Vashir shook his head, “Nope. Got robbed by a bandit pair when I was coming back home. One of them snatched it off me so I made this big deal of ‘leaving me my family ring’. So, he went to put it on to taunt me. Dropped dead faster than you can say cliff racer!”</p><p>He burst into laughter, letting go of his hand in the process, “That’s priceless!”</p><p>Vashir found himself laughing along and unwinding a bit more, “You should have seen his partner’s face! Hightailed it, yelling about my cursed ring!”</p><p>“I can imagine!”</p><p>Vashir smiled, leaning against the railing and looking out at the water. “Hey,” he said, “Do you know our route to Vivec?”</p><p>Fadren nodded, “I’m coming with so I do know. We’re going to dock at Tear, take a caravan up to Narsis and take a ferry up the river to Vivec.”</p><p>His ears pricked, “You’re coming with?”</p><p>Fadren nodded, “I’m one of the guards that will be guarding the ships and caravan. Not an Ordinator so don’t look at me like that!”</p><p>Vashir chuckled, turning away, “Was about to say you’re far too friendly for an Ordinator.”</p><p>Fadren chuckled too, leaning on the railing. A comfortable silence settled over them. Vashir smiled softly. He felt at ease.</p><p>That night, Galeri once more was with him, following him out of the dining room. Vashir said as she approached, “So I guess we won’t be seeing much of each other once we make it to Tear?”</p><p>Galeri’s face fell and she nodded, “Yes, I’m part of the crew so our journey ends there.”</p><p>“What do you do anyway?”</p><p>“Oh! I work in the kitchen, minor stuff really.”</p><p>Vashir nodded, as they walked to his room, “Makes sense why I missed you this morning.”</p><p>Her face lit up and he regretted what he had said, “You missed me?”</p><p>“You’re one of the few people I’ve talked to so yes,” he answered, matter-of-factly, to not come off as too forward.</p><p>They came to his room and entered, Vashir closing the door behind them. He turned to her, “Er, what do you want to hear about? There might be some things I can’t say or won’t go into much detail about,” he trailed off.</p><p>She sat on the bed, clapping her hands together, “Really?! I want to hear about how you defeated Dagoth Ur! No one really knows the whole story!”</p><p>He reflexively twisted Moon-and-Star around his finger, “Alright, I think I can do that. Going to be abridged though else I’d get no sleep.”</p><p>“That long huh?” she asked as he sat beside her.</p><p>“Took me a year to finally do it so I’d say so. Anyway, a little backstory. I’ve always been prone to nightmares and weird dreams. Of places and things I had no way of knowing.”</p><p>“Like?”</p><p>He closed his eyes, recalling the things he had no right to remember, “Dreams of foreign battlefields, of leading armies against the Dwemer, of counsels of people I didn’t know at the time. I suppose they were Nerevar’s memories.”</p><p>She nodded along so he continued, “But when it truly begins is after I went to Cyrodiil, started running with the Thieves’ Guild. Messed up once and got hauled off to jail. Then three months later, they’re shipping me to Vvardenfell...”</p><p>The story went smoothly with the exception that Galeri was getting closer and closer to him as he spoke. He felt equal parts exhilarated and uncomfortable by the attention. He paused, to catch his bearings.</p><p>“Caius sent you to a Sixth House base? He must have had faith in you,” Galeri smiled.</p><p>“It wasn’t misplaced. I made it through well enough. I’m good at sneaking about, killing things and being gone. It’s just...at the end...there was this Ash Ghoul. They look like...their faces are hollowed out and there’s a tentacle coming out of it.”</p><p>Galeri blanched, “That’s terrifying!”</p><p>“Believe me. But he was weirdly cordial. Told me some things about Nerevar and gave me the first blow. I...had thought I killed him...”</p><p>The memory tugged at the edges of his conscious, pulling him into it. He had stood above him, dagger in hand, watching to make sure he was dead. He wasn’t. Like a mad creature, he jolted up, grabbed his face and murmured his last words.</p><p>“’Even as my Master wills, you shall come to him, in his flesh, and of his flesh,” Vashir quoted, “He said that then cursed me with Corprus.”</p><p>Galeri’s hands flew to her mouth in shock, “They said...that the Nerevarine had to have caught it...but I never thought…,” she trailed off and lowered her hands, “What was it like?”</p><p>Vashir tilted his head, recalling those hellish weeks, “It took a little while to set in but when it did, it was bad. I had to wear a cloak into Balmora to see Caius who told me to go to someone who supposedly had a cure. Divayth Fyr.”</p><p>“Right!” she grinned, “He would know! He’s brilliant, they say he’s so old he was around when there was Chimer!”</p><p>Vashir shrugged, “That I did not know. Anyway, I had to trek to Tel Fyr while infected. It was terrible. I’d have fevers and these growths on me. I always felt fuzzy and confused, jumping at things that weren’t there and sometimes, trying to viciously attack them. I’d get so angry and violent, which isn’t me. I could barely sleep and when I did, I had nightmares. The worst though,” he paused, rubbing his chest, “was there was this pull in my chest, to turn and go to Red Mountain instead.”</p><p>Galeri said nothing, but looked shocked, disturbed even. She swallowed thickly, “But you were cured?”</p><p>Vashir nodded, “Yep. Had to do a favor for Fyr before he’d give me the cure. He said it could kill me but frankly, I didn’t have much of a choice. But it cleared me right up!” he threw his hands out.</p><p>She smiled, “That’s amazing!”</p><p>He nodded, declining the full truth. Cure was not entirely correct. It had rid him of his negative symptoms but not the positive ones. He had thought perhaps Fyr was talking out his ass but in the past years, he hadn’t gotten sick nor showed any sign of aging. “Anyway,” he continued, “I went back to Caius...”</p><p>No time had passed when he felt himself get anxious. He was at when he had come to the Cavern of the Incarnate, “So I go in at dusk and there was a statue of Azura. She had...,” he held up his hand to show her Moon-and-Star, “this.”</p><p>His memory backtracked to him stepping inside the cave. Inside, it was awash in blue light. The statue was haloed in the light, Moon-and-Star cupped in Azura’s hand, practically glowing, waiting for him to claim it.</p><p>“I was scared, to put it on, I mean,” he stumbled over his words, “I was sure I was going to drop dead the second I put it on. I prayed to Azurah, told her I’d do whatever she’d have me do, to just...please don’t kill me. And I put it on. And I didn’t die. So, I became the Nerevarine.”</p><p>He paused, staring at the floor. That felt like ages ago, putting the ring on. Meeting the False Incarnates. Back home, he still had all the things gifted from them. It felt wrong, to sell them or leave them behind. That was when he knew there was no way he could go back, to return to how things were. It had changed him, and he wasn’t sure it was for the better.</p><p>“Hey, Vashir,” Galeri’s voice roused him from his thoughts, “We don’t have to keep at this, if you don’t want to.”</p><p>“Maybe that’s for the best,” he shook his head, “I want to get this out but...I guess I can’t really.”</p><p>If his memories got away from him like this with him telling about receiving Moon-and-Star, how would it go when he got to Vivec? Dagoth Ur himself?</p><p>“I’m sorry, I know I’m letting you down,” he continued, “Some of these things are hard to think about. My memories tend to run away from me.”</p><p>“I understand,” her hand migrated to his leg, sending a jolt through him, “Perhaps there are other things we can do to take it off your mind?”</p><p>He flicked an ear and looked at her hand then her. Despite his better judgment, he ventured, “Like?”</p><p>“Y’know,” she laughed, moving her hand up his leg.</p><p>“No,” he said, grabbing her hand firmly.</p><p>By the way she flinched, he put too much force into it. He let go and she withdrew her hand, “I can’t. I just met you.”</p><p>She scowled, “Here you were telling me your life story!”</p><p>He hissed, jolting back, “You asked!”</p><p>“You didn’t have to agree!”</p><p>Something clicked in his head and her behavior made sense. He seethed, “How do I know this wasn’t all a ploy anyway?!”</p><p>She gasped and rose to her feet, fixing him with a withering glare, “It wasn’t! But if that’s how you think, I think they’re correct!”</p><p>“Correct?!” he cried, ears pressed flat to his head.</p><p>“Yes! That somewhere along the line, something fucked you up so badly, you’ve gone crazy! That you’re paranoid! That you’re that Khajiit from Mournhold!” she spat and turned away.</p><p>His anger fizzled out like a dead flame, smothered by a sudden wave of anxiety, “Wait...that Khajiit...what Khajiit? What are you talking about?!” he cried, jumping to his feet.</p><p>She said no more, only casting a cool glare as she left, leaving him shaking. He sunk to the ground, trying to not remember—</p><p>He stumbled into Mournhold, the Band’s power having sent him back. He felt numb, cold. He was covered in blood, some his, some not. Were people looking at him? He couldn’t see anyone but he felt so many eyes on him. They were surely murmuring, talking amongst themselves. He was shaking. There was a woman in front of him, why was she floating—oh, it was Azurah. She had a serene look on her face but her tone was clearly pleased. She was saying something—probably happy that two-thirds of the Tribunal was dead—but he could barely hear her, like she was underwater. Finally, she disappeared and the only thing keeping him steady snapped. He fell to his knees and screamed.</p><p>When he came to, he was on the floor. He had assumed he hadn’t fallen, as nothing hurt, but he couldn’t be sure. Hot tears ran down his face and his eyes stung. He hugged his arms to himself, fighting back a sob. Flashbacks weren’t uncommon but they never got any easier, especially ones from that day. Every time after, he felt tired, like he had been hollowed out and left empty inside. </p><p>Finally, once he stopped sobbing, he crawled into bed, wrapping the blanket around himself tightly. That night, his mind had pity on him and his sleep was dreamless.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Warning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which the Nerevarine's visions continue, cementing the idea that something very bad is coming, something he warns his new friend of.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That morning, Vashir didn’t feel much better. They were docking at Tear that afternoon, catching their caravan just before dusk. He woke before breakfast, one he contemplated not going to. He chastised himself for the childish idea, that he learned many a time before you didn’t turn down free food. So until then, he focused on making sure he was packed. No doubt his party would rush him off the ship.</p><p>No one attempted conversation with him at breakfast, which suited him just fine. It seemed that those present knew their guest was in a bad mood. It didn’t help he had already put on his cloak, making him a dark presence at the table. Even then, he didn’t eat all his breakfast, slipping away with a roll in hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Galeri eye him, expression unreadable. He wanted to go over and apologize for how he had reacted, that it had been irrational, but his fear won out.</p><p>He escaped to the deck, which was mostly deserted except for a Dunmer watching the skies. It looked how Vashir felt: grey, gloomy and a touch cold, which was uncharacteristic for late summer. He shivered, drawing his cloak around him. “Hey!” the Dunmer turned to him, calling and making him jump.</p><p>It was Fadren, a good-natured smile on his face. Vashir smiled weakly back, walking over to him and hoping he didn’t look too miserable. Nonetheless, the Dunmer frowned, at seeing his state, “No offense, my friend, but you look about as bad as it looks out here.”</p><p>“Feel just as well.”</p><p>“Any chance you want to talk about it?”</p><p>He was silent before he settled on, “Bad memories is all.”</p><p>“Ah,” Fadren leaned against the railing, “I suppose this trip brings those up?”</p><p>Vashir sighed, leaning beside him, “It does. I thought it wouldn’t be this bad...”</p><p>They were silent for a moment more, the only sound being of distant rumbles of thunder. Then Fadren asked, “Do you have any idea what Lord Vivec may want to see you for?”</p><p>Vashir had a good idea. He’d had to relieve the memories of the Clockwork City. There was also the case of Vivec’s waning godhood but what he’d even do about it, he did not know. After all, it was his fault...even if it was necessary. All in all, things Vashir did not want to confront but was being strong-armed into. “I wouldn’t know,” he lied.</p><p>Fadren studied his face then shrugged, “I suppose it must be important.”</p><p>“I’d think so.”</p><p>Vashir looked down, reflexively twisting Moon-and-Star around his finger. He didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to relive those memories. The idea of having an...episode in front of Vivec was almost too much to bear. What if he blacked out and attacked him? It had never happened before but he wasn’t willing to rule out the possibility.</p><p>“Hey...are you alright?” Fadren asked, his hand on Vashir’s arm.</p><p>Vashir realized he was shaking like a tree in a summer storm. He was breathing too fast and he couldn’t make himself stop. It felt like something was rattling around in his chest, desperate to escape. He shook his head.</p><p>Fadren frowned but spoke in a steady tone, “Follow my breathing. I’m going to count to ten.”</p><p>He nodded quickly, watching him as he fought to follow his breathing. Fadren murmured, “See, everything is going to be alright. You’ve gone through worst, right?”</p><p>Nod, nod. “It might be scary. But you can get through it.”</p><p>Vashir nodded. The memories hurt but they were in the past. “It’s in the past,” he murmured.</p><p>Fadren nodded, “They’re in the past. You don’t have to worry about it happening again.”</p><p>He nodded again then closed his eyes. He still felt queasy but at least the most of the panic was gone. “How humiliating,” he mumbled, “I didn’t want anyone to see me like that...”</p><p>“No, no! Not at all!” Fadren shook his head, “You’re no more weak than anyone else.”</p><p>Vashir glanced over at him and found him patiently smiling at him, “I guess so?”</p><p>The Dunmer smiled, “You did everyone a big service all by yourself. No one should expect you to have come out without <em>any</em> trauma.”</p><p>That made sense and eased some of his shame, “I wish everyone would see it like that.”</p><p>“Us Dunmer, I think, have a bad habit of internalizing these things. I wish we didn’t but it’s how it is,” he patted his hand, “I used to think that way but I had a buddy who was through some stuff, came out like you. He thought he was weak for it too.”</p><p>“What happened to him? Er, if I may ask?”</p><p>“Guy was a mercenary, in the Iliac Bay some years back. Right around the time of the Warp in the West.”</p><p>Vashir blinked in surprise, “I couldn’t blame him then! Where was he?”</p><p>“Thank Azura, he wasn’t anywhere near ground zero. But he was in one of the cities when this army marched into it. It was a bloodbath, he said and all the while there was this...great light out in the distance, that if you looked at it too long, your eyes would burn. Still, even years later, he’d have nightmares about it. He was a good friend so it made me reevaluate my views.”</p><p>He paused then put his hand back on his shoulder, “You’re the Nerevarine and one can only guess what you’ve seen. I think you’re allowed to not be well about the whole thing.”</p><p>Vashir stared across the sea, at the approaching mainland. “Thank you,” he said, “It means a lot.”</p><p>Fadren patted his back, smiling, “It’s just what’s right. Anyway, I’ll see you when we dock! I’ve got to get my things together.”</p><p>It didn’t take them much longer to dock at Tear and for Vashir’s company to hurry him off the ship. As he walked aside them, catching the eye of the city’s people, he thought wryly, <em>do they expect me to snap and kill someone?</em></p><p>Memories of his breakdown from the last night tugged at his mind, smothering his dry amusement, leaving him to slump and follow along to their caravan.</p><p>The caravan consisted of a main cart and a pair of smaller ones, all drawn by guar. If Vashir wasn’t in company, he might have stopped to pat said guar. He was always fond of the creatures. But, instead, he was ushered into the main cart, flanked by the pair of Ordinators, leaving him cramped and in a sour mood. It didn’t help they were never one for conversation, leaving the ride inland quiet and dull.</p><p>He did get a reprieve that night when they stopped to make camp. He sat in the firelight, half-watching Fadren and one of the cart drivers make dinner and half-looking over a map. He had gotten it from the cart driver when he had mentioned he had never been through the mainland. It was a boon since the only map he had of the province was a well-worn one of Vvardenfell that had been his trusty guide years before. In a day or so, they’d come to the mouth of the river that fed into the Inner Sea, where they’d catch a ferry. He thought, partially amused and partially irritated, that if he was traveling alone, this wouldn’t take nearly as much time.</p><p>Dinner was a loud, but otherwise unremarkable affair. The atmosphere here was much more lively than on the ship, everyone happily telling stories or sharing news. He shared small talk with Fadren, who he was grateful didn’t expect a lot out of him. After, he resigned himself to bed, curling up inside his bed roll.</p><p>That night, he dreamed about being back in the Imperial City Prison. It was quiet, even quieter than normal. Even that guy down the hall was quiet, which was a small miracle as he was always complaining about <em>something</em>. He grabbed the bars and pressed his face to them, to see if there was any clue of what the deal was. Nothing. He frowned.</p><p>There was a sudden rumble and he turned to the window, finding the sky outside was red. He shuddered but hopped up to grab the edge of the window. He pulled himself up and looked out. In the distance was a structure, like an upside down arch, two spires coming from the earth. He squinted but there was a shimmering effect around it, making it impossible to see what it was.</p><p>When he awoke, Vashir found his skin crawling. Three times couldn’t be a coincidence. Something was coming and he had no idea what it <em>even was</em>. It occupied his thoughts for the rest of the day, all the way to the ferry.</p><p>The dream set the tone for the rest of the trip, as he spent a lot of it in his thoughts. At least, his dreams were merciful and his sleep was dreamless.</p><p>The ferry was a small ship borne by the currents of the river. His room on it was small but as they would only spend two nights and a day there, he didn’t mind it much. In fact, the final night, he was on the deck, enjoying the night air and whittling away at his antler.</p><p>“Whittling?” Fadren had approached him, stopping beside him.</p><p>Vashir looked up at him and nodded, “It’s a deer antler I picked up a while back on Solstheim.”</p><p>Fadren sat beside him, offering him a sweet roll, “Was by the kitchen earlier, thought you’d appreciate something sweet.”</p><p>Vashir grinned and took it, biting into it. “Thanks,” he mumbled around a mouthful to which Fadren chuckled.</p><p>“So anyway,” he said, “What were you doing on that backwater island of Solstheim?”</p><p>Vashir hummed in thought before he answered, “Really, curiosity. Got stuck though because all the Imperial shipments were paused because the winter conditions.”</p><p>“Sounds like it sucked. So what are you carving this into?”</p><p>“A dagger handle.”</p><p>They sat in a comfortable silence as Vashir carved the grips for the dagger into his antler. Fadren broke the silence, “So are you worried about tomorrow?”</p><p>Vashir paused, “Very.”</p><p>Fadren glanced around then back to him. He said in a hushed tone, “I assume you’ve talked to Lord Vivec before. Do you think he’d want to hurt you?”</p><p>He blinked back at him, a little surprised by the Dunmer’s concern. “I don’t think so. He seemed very...” he paused then spoke back softer, “...very resigned to what will happen to him.”</p><p>Fadren nodded and continued, keeping his voice low, “I’ve heard hearsay that a change is coming soon. Vivec had gotten even more reclusive, which doesn’t surprise me. What does is that the Temple seems unwilling to change.”</p><p>Vashir frowned, “That won’t lead to good things.”</p><p>“That’s what I’ve thought!” Fadren nodded, “No one has seen Almalexia or Sotha Sil for years. The Temple insisted they have completely withdrawn. Vivec draws further away. Only a fool would think the status quo will continue. An even bigger one would try to pretend so. Things are going to change and change soon. But everyone acts like I’m crazy for thinking so.”</p><p>That last line hit a little too close for comfort. Vashir stared down at his hands, “Mark my words, you’re right. A change is coming and I think it’s going to be messy.”</p><p>Fadren raised an eyebrow, so he continued, looking him in the eye, “My dreams, they’re vague but...I think something bad is going to happen and soon. Really bad. After this job, you need to go home and prepare.”</p><p>He blinked, surprised, “You really think so, Vashir?”</p><p>Vashir nodded so he swallowed thickly, “Al-alright. After we’re done in Vivec, I’m getting on the first ship back to Blacklight. You don’t have any reason to lie to me.”</p><p>“Of course not,” he slowly put his hand on his shoulder, “You’ve helped me out. I want to help you.”</p><p>After that, they sat in silence, each in their own thoughts but together. Finally, Fadren once more broke the silence, “Let’s hope all goes well tomorrow. I do want to see you again. You’ve been a good friend.”</p><p>Vashir returned his gaze, “Y-you too. It’s nice, because everyone else treats me like I’m about to snap and hurt someone. I don’t want to be here but I just want to get this over with.”</p><p>Fadren chuckled, “So I’m guessing the blame is pinned on Vivec?”</p><p>Vashir nodded then paused, “Well, somewhat. I can’t tell you the full thing, but after last I talked to him, some things happened that he should have been told about but I didn’t. I admit, I have little love for the guy but I did owe him an explanation. I imagine that is what he wants from me.”</p><p>Fadren raised an eyebrow, “Wait, before you lied to me? You said you didn’t have an idea.”</p><p>Shame flooded his veins and Vashir looked away, ears lowered, “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about it at all.”</p><p>Fadren patted his shoulder, “Hey, I understand. I’m guessing this business comes with having to keep things secret?”</p><p>Not all the time. “Sometimes,” he said, “I have to keep this secret to keep myself safe. Maybe one day, I can tell you.”</p><p>Fadren grinned, “Yeah, you’ll have to come see me again so you can tell me! I’d love to see you again!”</p><p>Vashir’s chest felt warm. He stood, “Y-yeah, I want to see you again too. I...I should, um, get some sleep though.”</p><p>Fadren’s grin did not fade, “Good night, my friend.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Favor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which the Nerevarine finally meets with Vivec, recounts the worst thing that has ever happened to him and accepts a favor.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Morning came and with it, their arrival at Vivec City. Vashir had once more gotten up early, unwilling to be roused from bed and rushed out the door. He stood on the deck, watching as they approached the cantons of Vivec City. Nostalgia flooded Vashir, and it didn’t come with an aching dread. Somewhere off in the distance netches were calling. The first rays of the sun warmed Vashir’s fur. It reminded him of the first time he had seen the city, riding along with a fish merchant who came to sell his wares in “the big city”. He had chuckled at Vashir’s amazement, saying “everyone has that look when they see it”.</p>
<p>He was loathe to give Vivec credit in anything but the city was truly the treasure of Vvardenfell, a bustling hub where all peoples came.</p>
<p>“My friend, you are up early,” Fadren greeted, coming up from behind him.</p>
<p>His ears perked and he turned to face him, “I didn’t want to get dragged out of bed and have a meeting half-awake.”</p>
<p>“Understandable,” the Dunmer chuckled, taking up place beside him, “Beautiful, isn’t it? The city?”</p>
<p>Vashir nodded, “It reminds me of...better times. Happier times, even.”</p>
<p>Fadren nodded, then lowered his voice to a whisper, “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About something bad happening. Do you have any idea of what it may entail?”</p>
<p>Vashir shook his head, “My dreams just show me red skies. In my most recent one there was this...structure, like two spires. Can’t tell you what it was though. I want to say it’s nothing but...I’ve had these dreams before big things. I’d rather give you a heads up.”</p>
<p>“Even if it’s nothing, hey, at least you told me. Better than if you didn’t and something came of it,” Fadren pointed out, “Will you tell anyone else?”</p>
<p>“I was thinking of telling Vivec,” his eyes drifted to the Temple, which was getting closer and closer, “But I imagine he would have seen it, if something was coming.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps that is why he calls you,” Fadren said.</p>
<p>“Maybe,” Vashir agreed.</p>
<p>A comfortable silence passed before Fadren spoke again, “I imagine we will escort you back but on the off chance we don’t, I want to tell you you’ve been a great person to hang out with. Nothing like they say.”</p>
<p>Vashir quirked an eyebrow, “What do they say?”</p>
<p>Fadren shrugged, “They make you as either unapproachable and full of yourself or unstable and liable to stab someone.”</p>
<p>Vashir huffed and he laughed, “That’s how I thought you’d react.”</p>
<p>Vashir smiled softly, running his hand through his mohawk, “Well, um, you’ve been a great person to hang out with. You’ve helped me out a lot.”</p>
<p>“I just do what I’d want someone to do for me.”</p>
<p>“Still,” he raised his hand to his shoulder, “I appreciate it.”</p>
<p>Fadren returned his smile, “Well, once everything settles down, maybe you could visit me in Blacklight?”</p>
<p>His ears perked, “Really?”</p>
<p>“Of course. See what we could get up to,” he snuck his hand over and grabbed Vashir’s, squeezing it.</p>
<p>Vashir felt his face flush, “Oh yeah...we could...”</p>
<p>Fadren chuckled and there they stood, in silence as they docked.</p>
<p>Once they docked, the pair of Ordinators hurried him off. Those out and about eyed him. Some expressions were of surprise and recognition. Of course, not many would forget the Nerevarine here. He stood straight and did his best to radiate confidence, unwilling to appear weak.</p>
<p>They entered the palace and, to Vashir’s surprise, the main room was barren. It was dim as most of the lights had been snuffed. Instead, they walked to the back and through a short hallway to another door. One of the Ordinators knocked on it and called, “My Lord, we bring your visitor.”</p>
<p>“Let him through and leave us be,” a voice answered, lacking its divine reverb.</p>
<p>It was impossible to read an Ordinator but Vashir could have sworn this one was surprised. He went stiff then protested, “Lord Vivec, he is arme—“</p>
<p>“I’d surely hope so if he’s here in Morrowind. <em>Let him through</em>,” Vivec commanded and, even without reverb, it made Vashir freeze with fear.</p>
<p>It had the same effect on the Ordinators who froze, turning to each other. Then the one speaking opened the door and practically pushed him through. They closed the door behind him, leaving him feeling exposed and on the spot.</p>
<p>If he had to describe the room in one word it would be comfortable. Vivec was sitting on top a sitting rug, another beside him and all ringed with pillows. In between them was a platter of food, untouched.</p>
<p>Vivec himself looked...normal. Somehow, he looked even more squirrely than he did before. Gone was the two-tone skin, having been replaced with an ashy blue-grey tone. The only remnant of his divinity was his left brilliant golden eye. He gestured to the seat beside him, “Come, my friend, take a seat. I imagine you are hungry.</p>
<p>Vashir nodded mutely, making his way over. He took Trueflame’s sheath off his hip and sat it beside his seat as he sat. Rather than address Vivec, his casual air or just how weird this was, he pretended to be very interested in the platter, taking the plate off it and taking a little bit of everything. This was weird, sitting with him and eating breakfast like long-lost friends. He chuckled inwardly. He supposed that wasn’t too far off the truth. He popped a piece of meat in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.</p>
<p>“So, my friend, how have you been? I suppose you haven’t been back to the province since we last talked?”</p>
<p>“A little bit but left quickly after,” he responded smoothly, skirting the truth, “I’ve been alright, normal, y’know?”</p>
<p>Vivec nodded, though he wasn’t sure if he knew exactly. What with how removed he was. “I noticed,” he gestured over to Trueflame, “your sword.”</p>
<p>“Oh, right, this,” he pointed at it, “I imagine you want to see it?”</p>
<p>Vivec nodded patiently, but he could have sworn there was an excited gleam in his eyes. Vashir stood and took the sheath. With one smooth motion, he slid the sword free which, open to the air, ignited into a blaze. He hadn’t ever really seen Vivec emote often but the excitement on his face was so obvious it was almost alien, “It looks just like it did eras ago,” he murmured.</p>
<p>He almost responded, ‘That’s what Almalexia said,’ but the reply died in his throat. “Does it?” he asked innocently as he re-sheathed it, smothering its flame.</p>
<p>“Of course, though I am hardly surprised. Dwemer metal lasts long, even longer than them!” he chuckled.</p>
<p>Vashir sat back down and resumed eating, realizing just how hungry he was. He got two bites into his saltrice and kwama eggs before Vivec spoke again, “So, I suppose you’d want to know why I called you here?”</p>
<p>He nodded slowly, glancing over at him and setting his plate down. The former god continued, “I would like to know about Mournhold.”</p>
<p>He was expecting it but still, his body went cold. Vivec didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps care—as he went on, “I’ve heard hearsay but I do think these sort of things are best said by the witness.”</p>
<p>He tried to swallow his anxiety and answer, “So you want to know what happened in Mournhold?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Vivec nodded, “I think you’re an honorable person so I’d hope the rumors do not hold any truth.”</p>
<p>“Right,” he paused, “There’s rumors?”</p>
<p>Vivec arched an eyebrow. “I left pretty quickly after...what went down,” Vashir admitted, “This is the first time I’ve been in Morrowind since.”</p>
<p>“As I suspected,” Vivec said, “But yes, there are rumors. I find them irrelevant as I have the witness in my presence,” his tone was patient but it was evident he wished Vashir would just get to the point.</p>
<p>“Right,” he pinched his nose and counted to ten in his head, just enough to ward away the cold feeling in his skin before he began, “I ended up in Mournhold because the Dark Brotherhood was after me. Someone sicced them on me and I needed to find out who. I ended up having to stay because there was this whole power play between the King and the Temple. Somewhere in all this, I ended up driving out the Dark Brotherhood chapter out of there. Somehow, that’s just a <em>footnote</em>.”</p>
<p>He paused and noticed Vivec was patiently writing what he was saying. “You’re writing this down?” he asked.</p>
<p>“I like to keep these sort of things written,” he explained, “It doesn’t anger you, does it?”</p>
<p>“Well...I guess not,” he did secretly want people to know about his exploits but he wasn’t sure about this one, “Would anyone see it?”</p>
<p>“If you wished it. For now, I’m content with having it in my possession.”</p>
<p>“Right, I’ll give you the full story sometime...maybe,” he trailed off, “Anyway, these...things attacked the city. Fabricants, Almalexia called them, said Sotha Sil sent them.”</p>
<p>“That doesn’t make any sense,” Vivec cut him off, “He’s been very isolated since the Tools were taken by Dagoth Ur. Even before, he was astonishingly benevolent. He could have gone mad but...”</p>
<p>“This is just what Almalexia said. She had me go reforge Trueflame, said it could kill him,” he patted the sheath, “It’s where I got it.”</p>
<p>Vashir had to stop and count again, before he continued, as he felt panic start to crawl up his spine. “This is all the short of it. Almalexia gave me the, um, the Mazed Band, something I retrieved for her. She sent me into the Clockwork City. It seemed...I dunno, not right. I got to my destination and,” his breath hitched and he inhaled deeply, “There was Sotha Sil. Dead, strung up on his own machine. Rotting even.”</p>
<p>Vivec did not betray any more emotion than a thoughtful stare and a firm grimace. Vashir hoped he’d stop him or ask something but all he did was wait. He looked down at his hands, “I looked around. Tried to investigate. Then I tried to leave. There she was, in a battle mask, with her sword. Almalexia. She was the one to go mad and, and,” he noticed he was shaking, “And she was going to kill me.”</p>
<p>He pressed his face into his hands, the panic now in his head. The memory threatened to yank him into it. Still, he continued, feeling hot tears on his cheeks, “I had to fight her! I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to kill her! I told you! I didn’t want to kill any of you because, because, what’s the point!”</p>
<p>He dimly heard someone talking in the background so he looked up. <em>He was in the Clockwork City once more, facing Almalexia. She readied Hopesfire and spoke, “Even in death, he mocked me with his silence!”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>She paused and said, overly sweet, “But I think you will scream, </em>
  <em>mortal.</em>
  <em> For now, you face the one true god.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Then she lunged, giving him a split second to raise Trueflame to meet its twin with a metallic screech.</em>
</p>
<p>He flinched, something digging into his shoulders and someone saying, “Vashir!”</p>
<p>He looked up again to meet Vivec’s gaze, who was holding onto his shoulders. Vivec said in a steady tone, “You’re in my Temple. What you saw isn’t happening.”</p>
<p>“It isn’t happening...not again,” Vashir repeated.</p>
<p>He felt foggy, like he was in a dream. What was happening anyway? “What’s happening?” he asked.</p>
<p>“You were telling me about Mournhold. I think I’ve heard enough. I see now it wasn’t your choice.”</p>
<p>Vashir looked away, “Wh-why would it be? I wanted to just leave it.”</p>
<p>“I believe that,” suddenly the former god looked very tired, “I knew something to this effect would happen. As I told you, I feared Ayem may do herself or others harm and it appears I was correct. Yet...I hope you don’t hold it against her too much. She wasn’t a bad person, but very driven and loved her people. It surprises me none the lengths she may have felt she needed to go to protect them.”</p>
<p>He sighed, “I imagine once she killed you, she would have killed me, especially if she killed Sil. Still, it is very sad it’s come to this...something once so glorious, now in ruins. But I am glad you don’t want to kill me. I’d very much rather to be your friend than your enemy.”</p>
<p>After a moment, Vashir chuckled, despite himself, “That might be….the most thoughtful thing you’ve told me.”</p>
<p>Vivec shrugged, “You are the only being on this plane I feel I can be frank with anymore.”</p>
<p>Vashir perked up, “...really?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I can argue you’re the only person I remain close with. My Temple views me less as a person and more as a figurehead with a time limit. Yet, they make no attempt to make plans for my absence. Which makes for a lovely segue into the true reason I called you.”</p>
<p>He blinked, “The true reason?”</p>
<p>Vivec nodded, “While I’m glad to hear the truth about Mournhold, there was a more important reason I called you here. Vashir. You are the best person for this job as you might be the only person I can truly trust.”</p>
<p>The Khajiit raked his brain for something he could do for him that he couldn’t do for himself. When he came up with nothing, Vashir asked, “What is it I’m doing?”</p>
<p>“Like I said, the Temple won’t let me go. I fear...,” he paused, “...that my continued presence here is more a detriment than a boon to my people. They need to let go of the Tribunal and if they can’t do it themselves, I must make them. By disappearing.”</p>
<p>Vashir suddenly felt uncomfortable, “I don’t understand. You don’t want me to take the fall, do you?”</p>
<p>Vivec actually scowled, “I know doing such would be a death sentence and that would be unfortunate. In fact, I wish to accompany you back to Elsweyr. I will fake my death and in the chaos, no one will think otherwise.”</p>
<p>Subconsciously, Vashir twisted Moon-and-Star around his finger as he thought. A road trip with a pretentious former god sounded like anything but what he wanted. Not to mention he’d be taking this person home with him. But...Vivec trusted him. He asked, “Why would I want to do this?”</p>
<p>Vivec’s eyes literally glittered, “I’d argue you owe me in some capacity.”</p>
<p>“Owe me?” Vashir blinked, “For what?! If you say Wraithguard or those plans, I swear—“</p>
<p>Vivec shook his head, “No, for my counsel. The answers I had given you when you asked.”</p>
<p>“You mean the answers I’m not sure are even true or not?”</p>
<p>He shrugged, “Whether you believe me or not is your prerogative. Will you do it or not?”</p>
<p>Vashir looked away with a huff. On one hand, Vivec just wasn’t trustworthy. On the other...Vivec trusted him. And he could see his point. With his divinity waned, he was little more than a bird in a gilded cage. “Okay,” he agreed, “I’ll do it. But you better have a plan.”</p>
<p>Vivec merely smiled, “Of course, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. We shall leave tonight.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Escape</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Nerevarine aids the escape of the former living god Vivec, hoping that he's made the right choice.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t until later that night the plan was sprung. Vivec seemed to have done something to persuade whoever investigated that his disappearance was not Vashir’s fault but whatever it was, he did not know. Just that he gave him instructions to go to a forgotten room in the back of the Temple and wait. It would take an idiot to not notice what would most likely be their exit, it being a large trapdoor set into the floor.</p>
<p>Finally, Vivec returned, pack slung on his shoulder and Muatra strapped to his back. Vashir found his eye lingering over the spear, having never seen it in person. His chest ached. “Let’s go,” Vivec said, opening the trapdoor, not noticing Vashir’s discomfort.</p>
<p>They dropped into a long tunnel that they were only in for five minutes before Vivec stopped. He placed his hand on the wall and murmured something in a language Vashir did not know. The wall emitted a low rumble and shifted, the bricks peeling away to reveal a new tunnel. They stepped through and Vivec closed it, by murmuring something else in the same mystery language. He turned to Vashir as they were plunged into pitch darkness, “Oh, I forgot how dark it would get. Let me just—“</p>
<p>Vashir drew Trueflame, lighting up the tunnel up with a warm orange light. He smirked. Vivec shook his head and chuckled, “I suppose that works,” he turned away and said, softer, “You remind me of him a lot.”</p>
<p>“Of...Nerevar?” he ventured.</p>
<p>Vivec nodded, beckoning for him to follow. He continued as they walked, “That’s a stunt Nerevar would have pulled. Smirk and all. He liked that sword a lot so I’m glad it was reforged.”</p>
<p>Vashir waited silently for him to continue but he didn’t. So he asked, “Could you...tell me what kind of person he was?”</p>
<p>Vivec didn’t answer immediately. Vashir wondered if he asked something he shouldn’t have. Then he murmured, “People liked him, and I don’t think just because Moon-and-Star. I mean, it helped him along but he was personable before. Very intelligent but he had this brashness and sarcasm that made people underestimate him. He had big dreams that he fully intended to make true. And he was a good friend.”</p>
<p>He sounded forlorn. After that, he didn’t speak so they walked in silence. After a while, Vashir asked, “Hey, what should I call you? I very well can’t call you Vivec in public.”</p>
<p>“You can call me Vehk.”</p>
<p>“Just Vehk?” Vashir raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Yes. It’s what I was called before this anyway.”</p>
<p>“Huh. By the way, how long’s this tunnel?”</p>
<p>“Not much longer.”</p>
<p>“What’s the plan after?”</p>
<p>“We get to the coast and take a ship out of here. How else?”</p>
<p>Vashir stopped and if it wasn’t for him holding their light source, Vehk might have continued on. He tuned to him, “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>Vashir didn’t answer right away, instead dropping to the ground and rooting through his pack. “I don’t like our odds this close to Vivec, especially on foot. If someone sees me with you, even with how Dunmer you look, there will be questions asked. Even without the ring and sword, someone is going to recognize me. You don’t get many white Khajiit with fucked up faces.”</p>
<p>Vehk arched an eyebrow, “You have a better idea? Because I doubt you have a Mark set and Almsivi Intervention won’t work for obvious reasons.”</p>
<p>“Aha!” Vashir cried, pulling out a slightly crushed bundle of scrolls.</p>
<p>He untied them, looking over each until he found the one he was looking for. He held it up to his companion. Vehk cringed, such an alien expression that he had to bite back laughter. “Divine Intervention?!” he cried.</p>
<p>“I don’t worship them either but you didn’t see me complaining when I was in the back end of nowhere, being swarmed by cliff racers and half-starving,” he shrugged, replacing the scrolls and swinging the pack back on his shoulder.</p>
<p>Vehk scowled, “The whole concept is ridiculous.”</p>
<p>“Listen, if someone catches us, I know they won’t kill you. Me on the other hand,” he jabbed his thumb at himself, “I’m pretty sure your Ordinators have been itching to flay me and wear my hide as a cloak.”</p>
<p>Vehk still scowled but didn’t protest. Instead, he stepped beside him and grabbed his bicep, none too gently.</p>
<p>Vashir hid his discomfort and unraveled the scroll, “This should send us to Ebonheart, which is good because it’s a port.”</p>
<p>Vehk did not respond. Vashir thought he was being childish, but didn’t say so, instead reading the inscription from the scroll. With a lurch, the ground dropped from beneath them and light flooded their senses. Then they were in front of a shrine, a surprised priestess staring at them from the corner where she was sweeping. Vashir nervously grinned at her, “Thank you, bless the Nine and all that,” before speed-walking out, his companion in tow.</p>
<p>Unsurprisingly, it was quiet. Only guards were out, eyeing the odd pair with curiosity. Vashir spoke aloud, “I imagine we’ll have to get an inn room and set out for morning. Then we bribe someone to give us passage to anywhere but here.”</p>
<p>Vehk nodded, his only indication of agreement.</p>
<p>Once more, Vashir’s dreams reared their ugly head. This time, he didn’t know exactly where he was but he had a hunch. He stood in an empty plain ringed by a grove of trees with deep purple leaves, the sky above a twilight lavender. He cried out, “Lady Azurah?”</p>
<p>No one spoke up. He shuddered. Was this merely a dream or a vision? Surely, Azura wasn’t happy with his decision to rescue Vivec but if this was a message, he hadn’t expected it.</p>
<p>Suddenly, the grass caught aflame and he yelped, running backwards until he hit a patch of bare, black stone. The ground around him sunk into lava and the sky above turned a fiery orange. In a moment, the realm had changed to somewhere violent and fiery.</p>
<p>He awoke with a start, thankfully silently however. He glanced across from him where his companion was lying. Whether he was asleep or not, he did not know. But the sun was rising so he stood, grabbing his pack. He debated for a moment to wake Vehk but decided against it. He tore a page from one of his journals and scribbled a note.</p>
<p>
  <em>If you wake before I come back, I’m securing us a ride. Meet me at the dock.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>    -V</em>
</p>
<p>As he strode to the dock, he pushed the thoughts of his dreams out of his mind for the time being. It wasn’t time for pondering visions, it was time for swindling. He chuckled to himself as he surveyed the dock. There was only a few ships but one caught his eye; a small cargo ship currently being loaded. There was an Imperial out front, looking over a clipboard. Vashir approached him, “Are you leaving Ebonheart?”</p>
<p>The man looked to him and grunted an affirmative, looking over him with a mistrustful eye. Vashir smiled good-naturedly, “Well, me and a companion of mine are looking to leave Vvardenfell. If you could give us passage, you’d have my gratitude.”</p>
<p>“Ti's a cargo ship, Khajiit. Not a passenger ship,” the man grumbled.</p>
<p>“Not even room for two?” he cocked his head nonchalantly, clipping one of the coin pouches off his belt.</p>
<p>The man’s eyes lit up, “Well, perhaps, we can work something out.”</p>
<p>Vashir smiled again and opened the pouch, looking over the coins inside. He had counted it out the previous night so really, it was just part of the show. He jingled the coins, “About 200 septims here.”</p>
<p>The man huffed, “Don’t waste my time.”</p>
<p>“You’re right, you’re right,” he nodded, clipping a second pouch off his belt and weighing it in his hand, “How about another 200 septims so..400 septims?”</p>
<p>The man hummed in thought then grinned, “Aye, you’ve got yourself passage to Leyawiin, my friend.”</p>
<p>He took the pouches from Vashir, “Now go grab your companion since we’ll be shipping off in about half an hour.”</p>
<p>Vashir turned to see said companion walking down to the docks. He met him halfway, Vehk looking over his shoulder at their modest ride, “Saw you working that Imperial over.”</p>
<p>Vashir winked, “You can’t tell me you thought I was an honest cat.”</p>
<p>“Oh no, you don’t get to be the Nerevarine without greasing a few hands, I suspect. I merely admire your technique,”</p>
<p>“I’m honored,” Vashir smiled, “Now, let’s get going,” he said, making his way back to the ship.</p>
<p>There wasn’t really anywhere to hole them up except in the cargo hold, among the shipments. The crew was surprisingly generous, giving the pair some spare blankets and pillows. Vashir wondered how much of that was true generosity or if his bribe was getting split up among them. Of course, he didn’t ask.</p>
<p>He set up in a corner, beside two boxes. Vehk made no comment on the lodgings so he had no idea what he thought of it. Vashir himself found the ordeal surprisingly nostalgic, as he had arrived to Morrowind all the time ago in a similar fashion. He curled up in his blankets with a contented sigh.</p>
<p>Some time passed before Vehk asked, settled in too, “I’ve wondered this but how did you end up in Vvardenfell to begin with? You don’t get many Khajiit there...willingly.”</p>
<p>“Well, the Empire shipped me off here,” he sat up, propping his head on his chin, “I used to run with the Thieves’ Guild in Cyrodiil. I needed to fence some goods so I figured I’d acquire it from a rich hot-shot in the Imperial City. I didn’t know the guy had a guard so I was caught. Beat half to death too for my troubles. Was in prison for what...three months? Yeah, three months before they yanked me out and into a carriage with no explanation. Didn’t know where I was going until they put me on a ship with some other Dunmer...what was his name? Jiub...yeah that was it!”</p>
<p>His tale was cut off by Vehk’s chuckle. He turned to him, “What’s so funny?”</p>
<p>“Jiub, was it? Cut across one eye?” he asked, pantomiming a slash over one of his eyes.</p>
<p>Vashir nodded. Vehk chuckled once more and explained, “Jiub, or rather Saint Jiub, must have left that ship and gone right out to the ashlands, intent of eradicating the cliff racers. I myself saved him from a flock of them, bringing him to the palace. He was made a saint and went on to ridding Vvardenfell of cliff racers.”</p>
<p>Vashir whistled, “Whaddya know? I met a saint! He deserves being a saint. Do you know how many times cliff racers nearly tore me up miles away from anything?”</p>
<p>The two laughed and once more settled into comfortable silence. Vashir smiled as he pulled the blanket around him. By this time next week, he’d be back home. Albeit with a new companion but he found he wasn’t as upset as he could be. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Crisis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Nerevarine and the former living god arrive in Elsweyr just as all hell breaks loose.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It didn’t take them more than a few days to reach Leyawiin and a day after that to cross the border into Elsweyr. They didn’t talk much, as if they were both investing their energy into the journey and nothing else. Now, they were past the border, traveling through the cliffs of Anequina. Vashir’s original plan was to return straight home but he decided that, while he was passing it, to visit his home village. He tried to visit often, having visited for the first time in years after he left Morrowind. The Clan Mother had threatened, in no uncertain terms, what she’d do to him if he disappeared for years again. “It’s not too far into the Tenmar Forest,” he explained, “Not too far from Torval so after we leave, we can stop there if we need.”</p><p>Vehk patiently listened, “You are the one leading us so as long as we get back to your home in the end, I do not mind.”</p><p>Vashir hummed happily in response. They were following a trail that had led them steadily up a cliff and above a small village. On his own, he would have scaled the cliff into the valley below and visited the village. While Vehk could no doubt levitate, he figured the fewer detours the better. Vehk stopped, looking down into the village, “Should we stop there?”</p><p>Vashir stopped, “I didn’t think we needed but if you want—“</p><p>His sentence was cut off as the ground rumbled, like something was awakening below it. The sky thundered, turning from blue to purple to red, eerily reminiscent of the skies above Red Mountain, all those years ago. In the village, the ground erupted in the middle of the village, twin spires of obsidian rising from it. With a crack of thunder, the area between it flashed red, a portal appearing. From it, there was a roar as a daedroth appeared.</p><p>Vehk watched as Vashir’s eye slid from the blood-red sky above to the canyon village below. He shook with suppressed emotion before turning on him. He stepped away and, correct in his prediction, Vashir drew Trueflame. He pointed at Vehk and wailed, “You knew!”</p><p>“Vashir—“</p><p>“No!” he cried, shaking with rage, “You used me! Just like everyone else! You saw this coming and used me to escape your city!”</p><p>Vehk looked down at the tip of Trueflame, it so close the air warmed with its flames. The poetic irony was not lost on him. “Vashir,” he said, patiently but with authority, “Your people are dying but I can help you save them.”</p><p>Vashir glanced back to the village as Daedra poured from the gate. “Fine,” he hissed and didn’t wait for an answer before he hopped down onto a ledge on the cliff wall.</p><p>He waved his hand and disappeared. Vehk tracked the distortion in the air as he hopped down the ground and ran his sword though a scamp. It dropped dead, nearly cut in half. <em>A unique way to do it</em>, he thought as he cast a Slow Fall spell and dropped to the ground.</p><p>With one smooth motion, he drew Muatra and skewered a Flame Atronach on it. He spun on his foot, flinging it at an approaching clannfear just as the Atronach burst into flames. Behind him, a scamp squealed as it launched itself at him. He raised his hand and flicked it, launching a fireball at it.</p><p>The onslaught was furious but at least it wasn’t only him and Vashir against it. The Khajiit of the village had taken up arms, defending against them. From the corner of his eye, he could see a wiry Khajiiti in fancy robes leading a gaggle of kittens away from the chaos. A dremora lord went in pursuit but a tall Khajiit—a Pahmar—stepped in, throwing a punch at its jaw. She took advantage of its dazed state to trip it and stomp its head in.</p><p>He heard a fierce snarl to his right and looked over just in time to see Vashir flash back into sight, pouncing onto a clannfear. With Trueflame, it looked as if he was a comet fallen to earth. He looped one arm around its horns as it tried to buck him off and stabbed it in the neck. It howled as he drove his sword in deeper. Suddenly, Vehk’s attention was elsewhere as another clannfear rushed him with a bellow. He side-stepped it then went into pursuit.</p><p>Vashir hasn’t been in such a battle trance for years and the ease in which he slipped back into it scared him. He was like a whirlwind, launching himself at his enemies and making small work of them. Trueflame cut though flesh like a knife through hot butter. But he was only mortal, unlike these Daedra, and he would eventually run out of stamina. He scanned the battlefield for his companion and darted over to him. With a quick stab, he skewered the scamp that was harassing Vehk. He looked up at him, “This could go on forever! What do we do?!”</p><p>Vehk grimaced and turned to the portal, “I’d imagine if there’s a way to close the portal, it would be through it.”</p><p>Vashir followed his gaze, “Are you sure?”</p><p>“I cannot think of another way.”</p><p>He sighed, “Alright, let’s do it.”</p><p>Together, they darted for the portal and through. What lay on the other side of the gate sent shivers up his spine. The ground was ashy black rock that was almost too hot under Vashir’s paws. The gate was nestled in a hollow between two cliffs. A natural trail led from it, skirting a lava lake and up to a spiked tower. Vehk said, almost too calmly, “This is the Deadlands. I could have guessed Dagon had a hand in this.”</p><p>Vashir turned to him, “Mehrunes Dagon?”</p><p>Vehk nodded but furrowed his eyebrows, “I had thought there were measures set up to prevent this however,” he shook his head, “A conversation for after this. I believe the tower is our destination. We reach the top, grab the Sigil Stone and the gate should close.”</p><p>“With us on this end?” Vashir tensed.</p><p>“The Stone should bring us to our point of entry so no.”</p><p>Vashir relaxed, “Alright. Let’s get going.”</p><p>They had surprisingly less resistance than they thought, only having to slay a handful of scamps on their way. The tower however found them battling a bigger variety of Daedra, atronachs, clannfear and even a daedroth they had to work together to take down. Right before they ascended to the last level, Vashir held up a hand, slumping against a wall and panting. The last time he fought like this was far too long ago and it wasn’t anything like this. Luckily, the extent of his wounds was a nasty gash on his arm from the daedroth. Vehk waited patiently beside him, something he was grateful for. Finally, he stood straight, “Let’s go.”</p><p>“Are you well to fight?” Vehk asked.</p><p>Vashir nodded but he didn’t seem convinced. Instead of arguing, he stepped closer and took Vashir’s arm. He raised his other hand, glowing green, to the gash, and cast a healing spell. The healing stung but with no time at all, the gash closed. He stepped back and said simply, “There you are.”</p><p>“Oh, er, thanks,” Vashir patted the closed skin, feeling conflicted.</p><p>But in true fashion, he buried those feelings and raised Trueflame, “Let’s go.”</p><p>The next room was a circular chamber with stairs going up to the apex of the tower. The daedra up here were humanoid and powerful, as Vehk had already entered combat with one, blasting it point blank with a lightning spell. As it staggered back, he launched himself at it, Muatra punching through its armor and through its back. He ripped the spear out, the hooked end and barbs making it so it did as much damage, if not more, coming out than going in.</p><p>Vashir longed to bolt for the top but instead, approached the next daedra who rushed him. He raised Trueflame as its sword slashed with his. It had a little more strength than him but he was able to dig in his feet. With his free hand, he summoned a small ball of fire, tossing it at the daedra’s face. It yelped and he took the opportunity to break away and cast a spell of invisibility on himself.</p><p>He darted back in, stabbing between its armor and at its skin. He danced out of the way as it bellowed and swung at him. The daedra growled in irritation at the fact its foe had disappeared and looked for the telltale distortion of an invisibility spell. It didn’t get a chance to find him before Trueflame was buried into its neck. It didn’t quite go all the way through but the damage was done. It fell to the ground, gurgling a final growl.</p><p>With the daedra out of the way, their path to the top was free of danger. Up the path, it led to a pedestal where above, a black stone levitated. Vehk grabbed his shoulder, as to not be left behind. Vashir reached out and grabbed the stone. It gave him resistance as he pulled at it but with a final yank, it snapped free. The tower shuddered and the world seemed to shudder too. There was a flash of heat and light then they were back at the village, in front of the dead remains of the gate.</p><p>Vehk let go and he was grateful as he slid to the ground. His entire body burned from the effort and his wounds ached, even the healed ones. He set his head against the remains of the gate and closed his eyes. His short rest was interrupted by a Pahmar who approached him, “My friend, you return! Zirra-do saw you enter the gate but was afraid you wouldn’t return!”</p><p>“I’m a little worse for wear but I’m alright,” he nodded, standing up.</p><p>“J'dari has went to retrieve the Clan Mother and the children. No doubt she will want to thank you and your companion,” she nodded at Vehk, “But this one assumes you want to rest, yes? There should be a spare bed inside the healing home.”</p><p>“Thank you, I really appreciate that,” he held his hand out, “I’m Vashir.”</p><p>Zirra-do grinned, taking his hand which was dwarfed in hers, “You speak the Cyrodiilic dialect, were you born outside Elsweyr?”</p><p>He shook his head, “Born here but spent a lot—too much—of my youth in Cyrodiil then Morrowind after that.”</p><p>“This one assumes it’s where you met…,” she paused, looking to Vehk.</p><p>“Vehk,” he supplied.</p><p>“Vehk, the Dunmer. You met him in Morrowind, yes?” she asked.</p><p>Vashir chuckled, “That would be right.”</p><p>They followed her to the center of the village where the healing home was. It wasn’t much but there was a bed which Vashir happily lowered himself onto. Vehk took his place at the end quietly.</p><p>To Vashir’s displeasure, Zirra-do left them there. He didn’t feel like talking yet but he knew it was needed. He sighed, breaking the silence, “Sorry for...pulling my sword on you. For blowing up.”</p><p>“I’d argue you were having a heated moment so I understand it. But I also argue that it wasn’t the wisest move.”</p><p>Vashir rolled over to face him, “Yeah, I wasn’t thinking straight.”</p><p>“Still, I sensed I wasn’t in any true danger. If I did, I would have retaliated immediately,” Vehk lied smoothly.</p><p>Vashir looked away, his ears flattened. After a few minutes more, he asked, “So you...foresaw this?”</p><p>“Vaguely. I knew there was going to be a breach between the planes within the next months. I did not know it was going to be this soon,” he sighed, “Almalexia would have seen this clearly.”</p><p>Vashir’s heart sunk. That made her breakdown make all the more sense. “Do you think she did?”</p><p>Vehk turned to face him, his face stony, “I do think so. But I know what you’re feeling. It doesn’t invalidate your actions. No doubt she was in no state to truly defeat Mehrunes Dagon once more. The first time, she had Sotha Sil’s assistance and it still was a hard battle.”</p><p>That didn’t get rid of the pit in Vashir’s stomach but he nodded anyway. Instead of dwelling on his feelings, he asked, “Why do you think this happened?”</p><p>“Sotha Sil did have an agreement that prevented the Daedric Princes from manifesting on Nirn but with his demise, I assume its null and void. And, even if I am loathe to give the Empire any credit, they did have a measure in place to keep up the liminal barriers. But, if their measure has been broken, that means the Emperor has died and there is no one on the Ruby Throne. Which means the barriers have been broken too. I imagine in the coming months we will hear of this,” Vehk said thoughtfully.</p><p>“And we’ll have a succession crisis along with this Oblivion crisis,” Vashir sighed.</p><p>After a long pause, he admitted quietly, “Sometimes, it feels like it will never end.”</p><p>Vivec’s ears perked so he turned to study his companion. Vashir was hugging his leg with one arm, his head pressed to it. He was staring at his free hand, where Moon-and-Star rested. His eye looked distant, like they weren’t looking at his hands but something only he could see. Vehk frowned softly, “Peace will come after war. It always does.”</p><p>“I hope so,” was all the Khajiit murmured.</p><p>He perked up once the Clan Mother came in. She was a wiry Suthay-rahy with reddish fur. She smiled, “Kind friends, this one would like to personally thank you. This one is Clan Mother Dahzahli.”</p><p>“I’m Vashir, that’s Vehk,” Vashir stood, gesturing to Vehk who stood too.</p><p>The Clan Mother took his hands and smiled, “My friends, we will never be able to express our gratitude in full. But ask of this one and she will see how she can repay your kindness.”</p><p>Vashir looked down at her hands then back at her, “I could never take from you, not for this. I was only wanting to help my kin.”</p><p>Dahzahli frowned, “Nothing at all?”</p><p>“Lodging and food for the night would be appreciated,” Vehk spoke up.</p><p>Dahzahli perked up and smiled, “That is within my power. I will make sure we provide nothing with moon sugar for our Dunmer friend! But she imagined you would like new clothes and to wash up, yes?”</p><p>Vashir looked down at his armor, torn in places and splashed with Daedra blood. He chuckled, “That would be lovely, Clan Mother.”</p><p>Dinner found Vashir in somewhat better mood, now that he was clean of blood and dressed in new silken clothes. One of the warriors had lent the pair new armor which Vashir thanked him profusely for.</p><p>Now, he was laughing along with Zirra-do, in between bites of rice with candied meats. While Vehk knew that Khajiit were mostly immune to the narcotic properties of moon sugar, he couldn’t help but wonder if Vashir, who had been eating Dunmeri dishes for the past week or so, was experiencing a little of a high. Or if perhaps the company had sweetened his mood. He found it intriguing how effortlessly Vashir shifted masks. It reminded him a lot of Nerevar, who was able to shift from ‘bumbling goof’ to ‘hardened warlord’ with no effort.</p><p>He supposed he shouldn’t be drawing comparisons between Nerevar and Nerevarine but he couldn’t help it. Vashir had so many shades of Nerevar inside him, even if he got angry when people drew the comparison. He had snapped at him once for calling him ‘Nerevar’ so he knew it first hand.</p><p>Still, as much as he hated to admit it, there was a part of him that ached to see that his companion was so much like Nerevar. Vashir had accused him, at their second meeting after Red Mountain, that he had killed Nerevar. Being divine at the time, he could sense the variety of emotions that radiated off him when they first met. Fear, awe...and anger. Anger that was certainly not his own. Which certainly meant Nerevar hated him. Which he could admit was perfectly within his right. Maybe, it was even what he deserved.</p><p>Before he could catch himself into a self-deprecating spiral, Vashir crowed, “Of course I’m a great warrior! Seen meaner things than those lesser Daedra!”</p><p>“Meaner things? Enlighten us, friend Vashir!” Zirra-do egged him on.</p><p>Right, he had to be a little high. He stood and cries, “Why one of the Daedric Princes himself! Hircine, the Hungry Cat himself, wanted to play a hunting game wit this Khajiit!”</p><p>“Surely, Khajiit lies,” J'dari, a grey-blue Cathay rumbled but was evidently amused.</p><p>“This one wishes he was but alas,” he shook his head, “the Hungry Cat thought Vashir a fine prey and beset him in a game with an Imperial captain, a Nord chief, a troll and oh! A score of werewolves!” he bared his teeth as his audience roared in amusement.</p><p>Whether they thought he was telling the truth, Vehk did not know. What he did know was somewhere along the line he had slipped into the Khajiit dialect. Another example of his effortless mask switching? Or did he even realize he was doing it? It was fascinating.</p><p>“Then,” he mimed drawing a sword, “the battle was on! Vashir against, well just an aspect, but the Daedra himself! The battle vicious and fast-paced, Khajiit was frightened, yes. Believe it or not, this was the third battle in which Vashir found himself against an opponent many times his master and he still won! But those tales he won’t tell here.”</p><p>“How did this one win then?” J’dari asked.</p><p>“Good question!” he pointed to the Khajiit, “Finally, as deer lock horns, we locked together! Hircine’s antler in this one’s shoulder and this one’s sword in his chest. There we stood locked together, neither willing to bow! Until, the Hunter conceded this one was the winner, breaking off his horn and bidding him farewell, that is until perhaps another day.”</p><p>He had the intended reaction of crowing and applause and he practically basked in the attention. “This one tells a tall tale but an amusing one!” Zirra-do cried.</p><p>“Oh, please!” he grinned and practically danced over to Vehk. He placed his hands on his shoulder and asked, “Perhaps this one’s companion could weave a tale? After all, he is the Warrior-Poet!”</p><p>Vehk froze, suddenly on the spot. What was the Nerevarine thinking?! It was quiet.</p><p>Then the Khajiit roared with laughter. “This one thinks you should have quit while you were ahead!” another, a Dagi, chuckled.</p><p>“Yes,” J’dari laughed, “This one thinks all the time in Morrowind dulled this one’s senses!”</p><p>“I do think our friend needs to rest. It’s obviously been a long day,” Vehk agreed, standing and forcefully taking a hold of Vashir.</p><p>He waved lazily to his newfound friends, letting Vehk guide him out. Once out of earshot, Vehk hissed, “Have you gone mad?!”</p><p>Vashir glanced over at him. His eye was perfect in clarity. He grinned lazily, “No one believes me anyway. Who would believe you’re the Warrior-Poet if I say it?”</p><p>“I will admit you’re weren’t leading yourself to believable tales,” Vehk paused and asked, “Was the tale regarding Hircine true?”</p><p>“Every word,” he nodded, “I didn’t exaggerate anything.”</p><p>“I would like to hear the full tale one day.”</p><p>“Maybe one day.”</p><p>“Also, don’t out me like that again. Even if you’re sure no one will believe it.”</p><p>“Got it, Vivec.”</p><p>“<em>Watch it.</em>”</p><p>Vashir chuckled and stepped inside once they made it to the healing home, laying down. The exhaustion of the day lulled him off to sleep. This night, his sleep was dreamless. But this time, the lack of dreams unsettled him more than anything, doing nothing to soothe his anxiety for the days to come.</p>
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